“Oh!” Doodles brightened understandingly. “I didn’t think about the door. Maybe she could hear if it was open.”
“S’posed that was what you were drivin’ at.”
“No! I meant for you to take him down to her room. You wouldn’t mind, would you?” The query wore an anxious tone.
Blue’s grimace would not have encouraged a stranger, but Doodles laughed contentedly. He knew his brother.
“Caruso don’t sing much now,” the elder boy argued evasively. “Mr. Gillespie said they didn’t in the winter.”
“I know,” admitted Doodles. “But I guess he would, if I wanted him to. You whistle to him, and see if he won’t.”
Blue good-humoredly struck up a tune, and to his surprise and disappointment the bird started into song.
“There!” Doodles clapped his hands gleefully.
“Wha’ ’d yer stop him for?” laughed Blue, for Caruso was suddenly silent.
“Never mind, he’ll do it again!”